Cupid
by Terraform
Summary: A tale of love - a heatwave sends Don and April venturing beyond their work in the laboratory. Rated M for content.


A/N: It's been a while! Although I've been plodding away on other tales, this one is actually finished and able to go up. Yes, it's a Don & April fic, and it's the opposite of clean.

WARNING: rated M for adult content ~ please take that into account before proceeding. Be of sound mind & age or else give it a skip. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

CUPID

It had begun so unassumingly, the unspoken agreement between April and Donatello being that the daylight hours in the laboratory should be reserved for their best behavior. For everyone's sake. And what a day to be restrained by protocol.

The whole city felt like it was warming in pot over a fire, with temperatures flirting with the unspeakable hundreds. Pavements cracked and tar melted beneath the sun's beating. Hydrants pried loose to send arcs of cool spray onto sunburned kids. But the most damning element was the humidity, slowing even the bustle of the city to a canter, and smeltering any remaining goodwill from each of its citizens. Before training had even concluded, Donatello found himself thinking that it this is what it must feel like to exist in a lung, steaming and damp, and half expected the sewers to randomly sprout plants from the green-house like conditions.

In the lair itself, situated deep underground, every nuance of the surface conditions seemed more pronounced. From within a singular paddling pool set in the middle of the living room floor, Michelangelo summed up everyone's thoughts best:

"I just wanna go to the _beach_..."

He leant his head back miserably over the inflated edge. In the background behind him the TV had been softly blaring a rerun of "Goodfellas", but there was no doubting what the real show was.

On the adjacent sofa, reclined and tiger-like, Raphael shot a lazy glance over at Leonardo.

"Your turn."

Leonardo nodded and scooped an ice-cube from the bucket between them, assessing its weight briefly in his hand before launching it at Michelangelo. It smacked off his plastron with a sharp crack and landed in the water.

_Plop!_

"That's the tenth one in the last fifteen minutes, Mikey. The sooner _you_ stop, the sooner _we_ stop."

"But I _gotta_ complain. What else are we _supposed_ ta do?"

"You could try _not_ complaining." Leonardo advised sagely.

A groaning grizzle erupted from the limp form of their brother as he idly flicked the water with his fingertips.

"But it's so _hoooooot!_"

Another ice-cube sailed over from Raphael's direction. This time Michelangelo spun, flinging a out leg with telepathic accuracy. It connected with the ice cube and sent it skittering across the floor.

"Ha!"

In retaliation for his thwarted blow, Raphael launched another, this one smacking him in the arm.

"Hey!" He twisted in the water, sending up a small surge over the pool's edge, "What's the deal? That doesn't count!"

"Ya think we don't know it's hot, bonehead?"

"Man, but it's not just _hot_...it's almost like the time Leo tried to dry his knee pads in the oven, remember? Hehe. There was smoke and fire and Donnie had to come out in a hazmat suit and spray the whole thing down, and then there was steam everywhere and-"

_Plink!_

Again, another from Leonardo's direction. It bounced off his shell and fell into the water.

"Okay, okay. Quit it, already." He shot them both an irritated look, settling back with a splash into the tepid water, "Anyway. Did ya think maybe I'm doing it on _purpose_? Like maybe I'm _trying_ ta get some ice in here? Get the water as chill as me? Did ya ever think _that_?"

Raphael snorted skeptically. He dropped an ice cube into his mouth, speaking around his crunches:

"I sincerely doubt it."

But as the day's grinding heat wore on, even the entertainment Michelangelo provided got old. It was just after noon when they called it, seeking their beds to banish the sun's scorching rays into oblivion.

Everyone except Donatello and April. There was work to do. And it was no small task, either.

Inspired after extending the security cameras down the north-western tunnels and towards April's apartment, Donatello had decided that it would be useful to run the camera's feed to each of their cells so that at any given moment they could check the safety of their most frequented routes. In effect act as an extra vanguard not only for his brothers, but also for April. Anything to keep them safe. To not risk the regret of not taking precautions. Even if it meant plowing ahead through the soupy heat.

They sat side by side, her laptop beside his aging desktop as they tried to code the feed into a usable application on their cells. The heat inside the lab rivaled even the surface, and with April beside him, he had done everything he could to ensure she was comfortable - pumping the waning air-conditioning and setting up standing-fans up in the diagonal corners of the wide room, criss-crossing power leads across the floor to feed their promise of respite. Streams of air passed by in a metronomic fashion and they waited eagerly for each and every swing of their mechanical faces to evaporate their sweat and cool their bodies, however fractionally.

But not even the day's heat could not match what he felt for her.

Stealing glances, Donatello quietly admired her with a smitten glow. Even in the sweltering warmth she looked effortlessly lovely - her red locks pinned from her face, and wearing shortest shorts his eyes had graced on her. She caught him looking several times and lifted her brow with a wicked tilt:

"Enjoying the view?"

"Sorry." he chuckled sheepishly, "You're just very distracting ...in a _good_ way."

"Oh."

She tossed her hair over her opposite shoulder, arching over the bench a little more, and winked back. The effect on him was obvious.

"What about now?"

He sighed slowly through his nose, giving a mute toss of his head. The place on her body where her thighs met her bottom did _things_ to him...especially where the frayed edge of her shorts sat. _Unspeakable_ things.

"Ah...did you say something?"

April squeezed his thigh with a laugh, and god it felt nice - to have her touching him, to have her look at him like that. To know that they were each others.

"C'mon, Oh Eloquent One. Let's sort this out now and we can get some take-out later."

"From the place over on 49th? With the little dim sums?"

"Mm hm."

He slipped his hand on her knee and snuck in a kiss behind her ear. April restrained a shiver despite the oppressive warmth.

"Or we could stay in?" he offered in a hushed voice.

She shrugged nonchalantly before turning back to her screen with a grin, and he rescinded his suggestion with a light chuckle.

They were only several hours into their project when the air-conditioner began blowing warm air. Noticing her growing discomfort, he quickly ducked out, bringing back a large jug of ice water, setting it down it by his drill press and away from the ambient warmth of the electrical equipment. But even on the other side of the room, the ice cubes didn't stand a chance.

"Stop fussing." she said with a laugh as she pressed down on the enter key. A line of code ran before returning error-free. "You're not going to rest until you turn this place into a walk-in freezer!"

"Gah! It's just - I think the air-conditioner is about to give out. It's not blowing anything below 85 degrees. It's actually making it worse in here-"

A spluttering sound began erupting from the air-con before chugging to a halt. Their eyes darted to the source of the noise, watching as it gave a final wheezing cough before falling silent.

"I called it."

"That you did." April glanced at her watch, "Two-thirty three. It was a fine air-conditioner. It shall be missed."

Donatello assessed the lifeless machine with a weary frown. Of all the days it had decided to cease up, it had chosen the hottest in over three years. He clacked his tongue in a gesture of vague discontent.

"Please excuse me a minute. I think something has jumped to the top of the priority list."

With that he hopped up and began rummaging around his workbench, grabbing a loose assortment of tools before setting to work. It was only too soon when he located the cause.

"Well...that makes sense." he muttered.

"Hm?"

"I went on a goose chase looking for why it gave out but it was really quite simple."

"Huh. I knew you'd figure it out."

The distraction in her voice was all too apparent. He decided to test the waters.

"Turns out it was a giraffe."

"Yeah? That's good."

He cocked a brow: "On Novocain. Juggling bears."

"Mm. You got it."

He gave a wry chuckle before turning back to the task at hand.

Absorbed in her work, she broke away only to pat her brow with a tissue, before clicking away at the keyboard in a flurry of muted patter. Just as suddenly she stopped. She lifted her tumbler to run along her forehead, condensation droplets slipping down the glassy slopes and along her cheekbones. She brought the drink to her lips and sipped.

"Is it just me or does it feel like it's getting hotter?"

Donatello glanced over at the thermometer beside him, setting his eye on where the mercury rested. He gave a small toss of his head and proceeded dismantling the revered air-conditioner: another item of refuse turned functional by his hand. It had proved to be a godsend over the years, counteracting the blistering conditions reached in the summer months; and in the lab, stacked high with computers and bio-medical supplies - nothing short of essential.

"You're right. It's climbed another five degrees. How about you go out into the living room and cool off - I'm fine here to fix this. I insist."

April dismissed the notion with a flick of her hand.

"No. No way. I'm so close to cracking this...just have a few drugged up giraffes to iron out." she repositioned herself on the chair, leaning back with a creak to view him better. "How's it coming along, anyway? Your computer is getting fried here."

Donatello offered an apologetic smile. He still was stunned she agreed to come down into the lair on a such a scorching day. But even before they were together, he knew she would have insisted, sensing the relentless itch to address the projects in his mind. And in a way she had caught the bug, too, with a tenacity to find solutions that rivaled even his own. _Stubborn_, she would often say about herself, and he loved her all the more for it. Lying in bed they could talk for hours about their work and everything beyond until they dozed mid-sentence in each others arms. Life could not be sweeter or more full.

"You're a saint coming to help out." he wrenched a section of the air-con unit out with a grunt, "I would have happily stayed over at your apartment with you. You know. In the nice and cool and private apartment. Away from the matinee that Mikey's been providing since the crack of dawn."

A quiet chuckle came from her direction.

"I'm sure I still would of had to have hosed you down at some point."

"Me? I'm as pure as the driven snow."

"Snow." she sighed wistfully, "What I wouldn't do for a little snow."

She watched with intrigue as he craned himself awkwardly over the cluttered desk to access his job. One solid blow and he would topple onto the bed. The temptation was almost overwhelming.

"Anyway, " she said, "we both know you would have been thinking non-stop about this project of yours until we started. You, my dear, have a one track mind."

He couldn't help but look at her guiltily then. _Two_-track, maybe.

"I'm sorry. This thing..." he slapped the side of the air-conditioner unit, "is a piece of junk. I'm surprised it held up as long as it has considering how long ago I installed it - but look what I found on my last scavenge topside!"

Donatello held up a spiraled tubing of metal, as large as his forearm.

"Ooh - a big slinky! To distract ourselves from the heat, right?"

Donatello grinned, "Close. Condenser coil."

"That was going to be my very next guess."

"Well, the good news is that after this is in, it should be good to go. Just another...sec." He locked the part into place and refitted the grill, "Okay. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, sweetheart."

Donatello broke his attention from the his task to return a tender smile. He loved her, for all those little things she said, things that made him feel almost worthy of her and just so incredibly lucky. Refocusing, he flicked the power switch. The air conditioner rattled and spluttered like an old man's cough before erupting into life.

"Ah-ha!" he wiped at his brow, still gripping his wrench, as cool air began trickling through the louvers.

April clapped her hands together in glee. She promptly rose from her chair and joined him in front of the fresh gush of cold air, stretching open her blouse at the neckline and letting it rush over her skin.

"This is just heavenly - you are a _genius_!"

"So I've been told." He dropped the wrench onto his desk with a clatter.

She turned and let the cool air race over her back. Swiveling again to face him, she reached up and caressed his mask tails. The look she was giving him...he knew that look. Latent drips of sweat ran down his face as he fell soundless beneath her spell. It remained only a moment before being replaced by something far more studious.

"Want to see what I'm up to over there?" She tilted her head towards the computer console set up towards the center of the room.

"Uh...sure."

She took hold of his hand, guiding him back, and before long the two of them had immersed themselves back into their work. April had barely begun to explain her progress when she began tugging at her shoulder, pausing her trains of thought to dig at her back with flattened finger pads. She dismissed his worried look with a wave her hand, insisting she was fine. But several minutes later, she did it again. Enough was enough, he decided. He was not about to let her suffer on account of a few messy protocols. Besides, he was nothing if not a fixer.

Without a word he went behind her, gently kneading his fingers into the stubborn knots at the base of her neck as she continued to discuss the networking problems:

"..after which we need test the relay the signal from the transmission tower - we're silently hopping different carrier signals here, thanks to your..."

But she stopped silent, her head dropping in relief, as he came upon the place that had been causing her grief.

"That feels... _so_ good."

Her hands steadied on either side of the keyboard in front of her, fingers scrunching upon stacks of old print outs. A metal nut fell clanking to the floor and she made to reach for it, shifting on the small stool.

"Forget about it." he told her gently.

She relented, letting his firm hands take control.

Pleased at her consent, he pulsated his grip, feeling the tenseness yield beneath his touch. He loved her skin. Smooth, warm, and slightly spicy from her perfume. The strange impulse to consume her entirely flashed through his mind - to devour her whole until she was part of him. But the surging temperatures always did make him more amorous - his partially reptilian blood thriving in the warmth. Singing for intimacy. And with April beneath his touch, the calling was only stronger.

"You're very tense." he told her, "I could probably construct some kind of ergonomic chair if you think it will help."

Her brow raised above her closed eyes.

"_This _is helping."

He smiled from behind her, recognizing the cracks in their facade of decorum. In effort to maintain the illusion, he began to run through their development.

"So you have the feed working through Leo's cell - what about the alarm trips? Any luck with the indication status on the interface?"

"I'm still working on it. This networking thing keeps throwing me for a loop. Definitely not my forte. Give me robotics, Donnie, and I'm your gal. I'm just not seeing something here. I'm going to have to get you to have a look over."

"Absolutely, it'd be my pleasure. You just relax."

She sighed, clearly enjoying his loving attention in exchange for her aches and pains. He pressed against a pressure point near the apex of her spine, and damned if he didn't hear a small inhale of pleasure. Satisfied at the headway, the corner of his mouth creased up further.

"How much more do you think we have to do?" she asked from beneath closed eyes.

"Of this? I can grab some massage oil and take as long as you need."

Grinning, she reached her hand lazily behind her to swat at him.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, of course. Hm. Well, I think that's enough for today, don't you? You've made spectacular progress, Miss O'Neil. Besides that, I don't want to cripple you." he paused before adding, "Not like that, anyway."

April chuckled softly.

"And what makes you think it would be _me_ that would be crippled, Donnie?"

What could he say? She always did have a way of saying something that could fire his lust in a heartbeat.

"You can always prove me wrong." he murmured.

A small smile crept up on her lips.

"I could."

He said nothing, continuing to her work her limp form, his hands traveling over her shirt, before plunging beneath its hemline. April exhaled a low hiss that ran between her teeth, the sound of shifting sands. His hands were strong, sensitive from years of intricate work in the laboratory - could detect every muscle that sought his touch and found it readily, kneading it into submission. With a sigh she reached her arms back behind the chair rest, wrapping them around his legs and squeezing. The loving gesture burned deep and low inside him.

"Don't stop." she whispered, her head tipping back to face him blindly.

At the sight of her exposed neck, he broke. Like a vampire he went in, his tongue gently flickering out and tasting her skin before following it with a soft kiss. He paused to breathe her in deeply, her divine scent quickening his heart and tingling the base of his skull. Again he lay a soft kiss into her neck, lower this time. Kiss after tender kiss. Worshiping her. Loving her. And she tasted as good as she smelt. He felt a soft chuckle in her throat as he slowly descended towards the luscious valley beneath the collarbone.

"Too ticklish?" he whispered against her flesh, knowing full well that the movement of his lips alone would enhance the sensation. Somehow she kept it together, and quickly he understood that she was in a receptive mood.

"Mmm. No. Keep going." she insisted, grabbing at the edge of his carapace and drawing him closer to her.

A _very_ receptive mood.

"I'm moving you to the bed."

He didn't wait for permission, instead scooping her up and walking the short distance before carefully placing her back down on his bunk. There it smelled like him, and her, and them together. He loved that smell. Wouldn't trade it for anything. Nowadays he couldn't sleep right without it.

As she sunk into the blankets they exchanged a fleeting look that asked: Are we really doing this? _Now?_

With eyes that sparkled like the first stars of the evening, April nodded. It was the only signal he needed, kneeling before her and dropping kisses onto her soft thighs. She lifted his head to hers, drawing him into a kiss.

"Undress me." she whispered, tugging at the knot of his belt.

It came free and she let the leather slip from her hand. He obeyed willingly, his eyes wandering across her body, still warm from the day, as he slowly undid her shirt, tearing at her shorts, and quickly discarding any and all remaining things from her, until she lay as only herself before him. Smooth and pale, curves like the sands of the Sahara. He could lose himself there forever. Heart racing, he drank her in.

"Now you." she said.

With rapid and practiced motion he removed his knee pads and wraps, letting them coil onto the floor like snakes, until soon their clothes lay in forgotten mounds - silent conspirators removed from duty. Naked, the cool air from the newly repaired air-conditioner raced across their bodies, and for the first time in hours they felt a chill.

"Anything else?" he couldn't help but ask. He wanted her so much. He loved her so deeply. He would do anything.

She shook her head, grabbing his hand and dragging him down beside her.

"Just you."

April drew him back towards her lips. Thousands of kisses had been spent since the time they were first together, but he could never have guessed that they would only get sweeter. He pulled away in a stupor.

"All good?" she asked with a quiet smile.

"We may have to repeat the experiment...ensure there are no false positives...run the control..." he mumbled wryly before falling rapidly back onto her lips.

He braced his arms around her, lowering her gently down the length of his bed, his kisses tender and deep. He broke away only to breathe, raking her body with ravenous eyes, before descending on her again. April giggled as he began to lace her neck with kisses. There was nothing that she wanted more. He felt so strong and stable, of everything she loved and associated with him, things that combusted spectacularly with her own energy. She wanted him, needed him, burned to corrupt him.

They rolled fractionally along the foam mattress, sinking towards its center. Her cool foot slipped beneath a rogue sheet gathered at the base of the bed before his own foot hooked hers and fished it out.

"I'll get you warm again." he promised with a whisper, bracing his leg against hers.

Her leg shifted in compliance, clipping a half-drunken cup of cold coffee that had been sitting desk's edge, knocking it to the floor.

"Oh!"

"Forget it." he repeated in an echoed sentiment of earlier, hearing the last dregs of coffee stream across the floor in bitter tracks.

"Our clothes..."

Donatello lifted an arm, swooping it down the side of his bed and pushing the pile out of the way of the encroaching stream.

"Better?_" _

_"Almost_." she looped her arms under his, dragging him back down.

Diving back to her neck, his tongue trickled upwards, tasting her, kissing her, before falling greedily back onto her lips. From nowhere he found himself chortling at a distant memory, the sensation resonating through her as his hand wandered freely down the side of her naked body, gliding across each smooth curve.

"I'm almost ashamed of how much I used to dream of this." he admitted tenderly, "But no fantasy could do you justice."

She scoffed a little at that one.

"Yeah, I bet you used to make these sheets _real _dirty."

Donatello pressed his lips together in an act of silence, his eyes skirting across her breasts before a small grin tugged at his mouth. April laughed, and smacked him across the chest.

"_Don't_ tell me, you filthy boy!"

"I'm not saying a word." he lowered his head to place a soft kiss below her collar bone, "But in my defense, you're very beautiful."

"You are such a sweet talker, Don, but two can play at that."

He lifted his head from her neck.

"Is that right?" he answered in a soft drawl, "I'm afraid you'll have to convince me."

His eyes glinted, knowing implicitly that she would throw down at the challenge. And she did, her voice dropping to a seductive lilt, laden with mischief:

"Donnie, your coding prowess is remarkable - it's almost as if Python was your mother tongue."

_Coding prowess?_ He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I don't even care that you're teasing me. You have no idea how much that is turning me on."

"Then how about you show me exactly what you used to do to me in those fantasies?" she baited with a wicked flash of her teeth.

His heart almost stopped at the suggestion as everything in his body heaved towards her.

"As many times as you like. And in as much detail as you can handle." he added with a playful tip of his head, "I'm nothing if not attentive."

"Oh, I know _that_. But sometimes it does take a while for me to catch onto things...like for example - where do _yo_u like to be touched the most? Hmm..."

Her fingers found him, stroking down his neck and into his sides where her nails brushed against his side plates. Curling and uncurling. The ridges there smooth and slightly warm, like lacquered balsa. A hand branched out, scraping his plastron where a nipple would sit if he were human. It was particularly sensitive there, and she knew it. Played on it. Knew every part of his body's surface, and how to control it.

"Or here, maybe?" she wondered aloud.

Her knees rose to brush against his outer thigh as the nail of her index finger caught against a rough spot at the edge of his plastron near his inner thigh and dragged slowly along its edge. Donatello inhaled sharply. The sensation was maddening. She knew just the spots to hit, the places that held an uninterrupted highway to his loins: the creases of his plastron, the joints where firm tissue met smooth, the sweet nothings she whispered like honey into his ear:

"You like that, don't you?" she murmured.

His eyes fluttered shut.

"God, April." he breathed between gritted teeth, his chest constricting in pleasure, "Don't tease me."

She watched enamored as he writhed against her touch.

"Believe me," she vowed lowly, "I'm not teasing you yet."

Breathing unsteadily he opened his eyes and shook his head. She was an animal behind closed doors and met his kinks readily, surpassed them, even. Rope burns, love bites, she had wielded them all in rapture. But tonight it was her turn.

"Uh-uh. No you don't, Miss O'Neil. That's my job."

Donatello ran his splayed hand over the peaks of her breast and down to her stomach where he pressed down lightly. April fell still beneath gentle pressure, breathing lightly, loving the solidity of his touch.

He kissed a freckle on her stomach.

"These are new." he murmured, his eyes tracing the fresh speckles across her waist.

"Your memory is uncanny. They're from when we went fishing out at the lake. I missed a spot with the sunscreen and paid the price."

"They're beautiful." he disagreed, "Forged under a summer sky - that would make this one Antares, the star that forms the heart of Scorpius." Donatello leaned over to deliver a soft kiss upon the inverse starscape on her pale skin.

April glanced down, pointing out another.

"And this one?"

"Hm, let me see..."

He kissed her again and again, traveling up her body, nibbling at the skin by her ribs, over the plains of her breasts, eddying at her nipples, until finally he arrived at her mouth, where his kiss was long and deep.

April breathed a sigh as they parted.

"Einstein-Rosen bridge." came his answer.

A trickle of laughter came from her, and she stroked her toes against his calloused soles in delight.

"A wormhole? How _romantic_!"

"Well," his eyes glinted mischievously, "It did take me to you."

She blinked and made a soundless chortle. The double-blow to the heart. _I should be used to this by now_. His love so often rendered her speechless. He opened her up, heart and soul, and all she wanted in the whole sweltering world was to grant him the same. To make him feel like he made her feel. To spend her lifetime trying to get even half as far.

"Is that so, smart-guy?" she whispered as she fell beneath the pull of his dark eyes, "Then shut-up and take me."

He grinned deviously but he had other plans. Plans that would leave her in a bewildered jumble of pleasure by the time he was done. She had no idea how much he just wanted to ravage her. All this delay, all this talk, all designed to stimulate her. He had taken note in his mind, filed it away, knew her better than she knew herself what turned her on. Or so he thought.

"If that's what you want."

He dropped his face to her breasts, rising to the challenge as he dragged a thumb over a nipple before descending upon its twin with his mouth. Sucking, licking, releasing streams of cool air to race across the crests until soft moans escaped her in warm currents. The dunes he could shape beneath him. Again, he brushed his face against her rose pink nipples, his tongue teasing them into peaks as his hand plunged across the short curls of her pubic mound to circle gently at the slippery folds beneath. Gasping sharply, her fingers lifted from the bed and reached at nothing before tightly clasping the sheets into a knotted bunches. He took his time with her. And with calculated precision, her body gave in to him.

"_Donnie_..."

His name wavered on her lips, over and over, each time ratcheting his lust tighter. Donatello couldn't quite figure out who was enjoying this more. They'd made love in its many permutations before - from rough and quick, to tender and sweet, taking their time in learning each other's rhythm until their bodies trembled and hearts beat a frenzied staccato. But he always loved her like this, lost in a haze of bliss. And completely at his mercy.

A smile cracked his intent features, watching as her freckles stood out against the red flush on her skin, like sprays of lily pads on water. He adored them. And loved that he was able to make her look that way. Just him alone.

"Good girl." he whispered.

_"Donnie..."_ she turned her head to catch his attention, her eyes glazed over in loving surrender.

"Yes?"

The taste of her salty skin on his tongue, her pleading whimpers, the feminine scent she was releasing - all driving him insane with desire. He felt the familiar pressure below wanting release. But he had all intentions tonight of delaying his gratification for as long as possible. To have fun with her. To see what made her tick. And then when he did...

"_Donnie_..." she begged in a low whisper.

"What is it, April?"

"_Don't...don't stop..."_

"Stop what?" he teased between brushes of his tongue.

She growled lowly in combination of frustration and pleasure, and chuckling he brought himself up to nuzzle behind her ear, to feel her heart thump against his own, his finger gently probing the slickening between her legs.

_"Stop anything..."_ she pleaded, squirming in pleasure, her breath warm against his face. She began to tense, close to the edge of heaven.

"Not yet, my love." he whispered in return, shifting his hand to caress her behind, "We're going to enjoy this."

She cried out, despondent at his cruel absence. The dependency and desperation in her voice almost made him lose it, and he braced against the surge of raw lust.

"I'll make it worth your wait." he promised, trailing kisses down the taut line of her stomach and towards her inner thighs, hungry for her taste.

Unsteadily she reached towards him, weaving her arm around his. Her hands turned inwards and glided down his abdomen, catching the section of his lower plate that concealed him. Fingertips brushed against him lightly and his mind blanked. Suddenly, she had control again.

"Then what if I do this?" her voice challenged sleekly as silk.

He gave a strangled noise in reply, erupting into a low rumble.

_Absolutely._ He tried to say. _Yes._

But it came out as nothing but a noise of pleasure, the low growl he emitted at the back of his throat when their union was imminent. Somehow he regained the ability to talk.

"Too...soon." he stammered painfully, "Let me touch you more."

"I'll kiss it better." she breathed, rubbing the warm mound that still, but barely, contained him.

"Want to make you feel good." he whispered with shut eyes, "Let me go down on you."

April yanked his arm up firmly.

"Goddammit, _fuck_ me, Donnie."

His eyes burned bright with wild hunger at the _very_ tempting suggestion. Any semblance of control was relinquished to her in an instant. Her scent. Her offer. He couldn't restrain himself any further. He nodded in agreement, eyes pinched tight, unable to exactly determine if his plan had gone correctly.

This time he released himself into her warm and waiting hand.

"_Better._" she whispered lustily.

He groaned softly, trying to contain his noise, as he stiffened to steel beneath her gliding strokes. It felt extraordinary. _She_ felt extraordinary. And there was nothing in the world that could turn him on like her. But he needed to hear it.

"Tell me...tell me what you want, April."

The demand left him in a staggered voice as he teetered on the edge of control. His shoulders hunched over as he became consumed with pleasure. He wanted her so badly. He wanted her not to stop. April grinned, knowing that she had wielded and made helpless the level-headed mastermind himself. Slowly, seductively, she answered.

"_I want you, Donnie_..."

A tight yelp came unprompted from his mouth as she held him willingly captive, drawing him closer. Taking over, he slid himself against her - searching for her, wanting her, aching to be inside her.

"_I want you_."

Suddenly, a distant knock broke into their exquisite foreplay, shocking them like a torrent of ice water. Panting heavily, they snapped their attention towards the laboratory door.

"_Hellooo_?! Donnie? April? You guys in there?"

They froze.

April's eyes whirled with panic, suddenly feeling every inch of her naked body, "Is it-?"

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

"It's locked."

A note of relief befell him as he quietly thanked every deity above for having the clarity beforehand to do so. Clearing his throat, he propped himself up onto his elbows and swung his head towards the laboratory door.

"Yeah, Mikey?"

The question left in a strangled sound. He turned his attention back to April, as his brow shot up in bemusement.

_What...timing._

April stifled a giggle, trapped beneath her hulking lover. Charmed by her humor at their perilous situation, and unable to resist her, he leaned forward to kiss her softly on a crimsoned cheek. A moment passed as he waited for Michelangelo to respond. Eventually he did:

"Are ya going to open the door or what?"

Donatello turned back towards the doorway of his room, his body tearing him in different directions - the overwhelming urge to just plunge into her pit against the necessity to halt it.

"Ah...can it wait? I'm kind of busy at the moment..."

From behind the steel door they heard a soft murmur of discontent as Michelangelo finally clued in as to what he had interrupted:

"Oh, great." Then louder: "Um, how long? 'cause I got an arrow through my leg."

Both April and Donatello sprung up: "_What?_"

"I shot a crossbow. Through my leg. Yeah. Kinda hurts. Blood spurting everywhere. Will _probably_ need some medical attention. But I can just go put on some loud music to drown out my dying screams...among other things."

This time April responded: "We'll be a just a second, Mikey."

Donatello let out a deflated sigh through his nostrils before looking April back in the eye.

"To be continued?"

"Oh yeah." she agreed softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb and catching it in the corner of his mouth, upon which he kissed it, "To be continued."

Begrudgingly they unraveled themselves from the each other, moving quickly to throw clothes over their flushed and aroused bodies. She glanced over at him as she shimmied her underwear over her thighs, admiring the sheen across his rippling body and watching him as he frowned to himself, sucking in puffs of air between his clenched teeth as he picked up his wraps to rebind his joints.

"_Goodness._" she muttered in bitter disappointment, trying to concentrate on what Michelangelo might need from the medical supplies. If necessary she could head to the surface to grab antibiotics from Chang's grocery store, 'behind the counter' and all black market, but their conduit to prescriptive medication. Maybe more bandages. And whipped cream. Feeling decidedly warmer, she fanned herself with the back of her hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a trace of a smile.

She nodded innocently and turned around to pick up her top, offering Donatello an uninterrupted view of her behind, barely covered by her floral panties. They stretched as she stooped, the lacy trim pulling tight against her skin. Donatello lurched below, and in a frantic state of self-discipline, began to mentally reign it back down.

_Calculus, think of calculus..._

"Arrow be damned. Mikey owes me so big for this..." he muttered.

April slipped the short sleeves of her lilac blouse over her arms, and reached across to kiss him on the cheek.

"_You_ owe _me_ so big for this."

"I intend to pay up." he grinned, sliding his hands to rest on her waist . He dropped his voice to a covert whisper, "Can you turn around for me? One more time?"

She obliged with a chuckle as his hands skimmed across her twirling body, fingertips tracing the soft curve of her rear. His heart thudded duly as he grazed bare flesh, catching her eye tenderly as she came to a halt

"Thank you." he murmured softly, watching as she proceeded to button up her shirt.

He inhaled sharply, and with remarkable effect, switched back over into his prescribed formality. April smiled. There was the Don that she had had admired for so many years. Clever and capable. Calm and collected. He walked to the door and waited until she nodded before unlocking the bolt.

His gaze instantly fell to the quill lodged in his younger brother's shin.

"Holy _shit, _Mikey!"

The curse had left him involuntarily. He was expecting it, but to see it was another thing all together.

"Yeah, probably shouldn't 'a been playing with a loaded weapon so early, eh, Donnie?"

He squeezed one eye shut in a knowing wink and limped towards the medical bay as a thin trail of blood splattered behind him on the brickwork.

"Hey, April! Sorry for...um, disturbing you guys. But I only got two of these things and I'd like to keep 'em both." he called out over his shoulder, dodging the oxyacetylene torch before prying himself up to sit on the gurneys edge. "Phew! It's hot as a pizza pie in here."

"It's better by the bed."

Donatello clenched his eyes shut after accidentally slipping that one out. He heard April clap her hand against her mouth. Great. Like he _needed_ to reaffirm anything to the loudmouth of the family.

"Yeah, I bet."

"What I meant to say was, uh... the air-conditioner is over there."

"Yeaaaah. So, about this thing stuck in my leg..."

Abashed, Donatello refocused, drawing in a sharp breath across his teeth.

"Yes. The arrow." He crouched himself down by the wound to inspect it closer - the arrowhead had passed completely through Michelangelo's leg, emerging an inch out the back of his calf. Blood dripped from its tip. "Yep...yep. That's a doozy alright."

"That's ya technical opinion, doc?"

Beside him, April looked down in horror at Michelangelo's injury.

"Mikey! What the heck happened to you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he answered with a pained grin.

Speaking of obvious he paused to look at his brother and April, the both of them appearing clammy and flustered. And not just from the heat, either. A few strands of April's hair had fallen askew, and she blew them aside with a guilty look. Donatello flicked his eyes upwards and watched her with small smile, his pupils as large as hockey pucks. _Great_. This was going to be _suuuuper_ awkward. How to put this subtly...?

"Um, you two wanna, um, go splash some cold water on yourselves...like on ya _hands_ or something?"

Donatello and April exchanged a look ranging from intense embarrassment to cold reason, then nodded.

"Just keep it elevated, Mikey. The arrow itself seems to be preventing most of the blood loss, so don't touch it. Don't lean on it. Don't even look at it funny." Donatello intoned firmly, "We'll be back in a moment."

"Sure, no touchy. Now you two lovebirds go wash up before you touch _me_ - I mean it, dudes. I'd prefer the arrow at this point. Get it...this point? Haha, I'm gonna take this show on the roa- OUCH! Ow, ow, ow...okay, let go of it!"

...

The moment Michelangelo hobbled out of the laboratory, repaired and stitched, April clicked the door shut, jiggling the handle to ensure it was locked. Satisfied with their privacy, she bound back to Donatello in quick steps and jumped into his arms, cupping his head and kissing him savagely. He staggered back with the force, gripping her beneath her legs and holding her up to him.

He chuckled as she moved across his broad face, his eyelids, his neck, his heart pummeling with every soft and ticklish kiss she seeded. Somehow he managed to speak amidst her affection, laughing giddily:

"You don't waste any time."

"Sit somewhere." she commanded.

With her still in his arms he made his way steadily towards the edge of his bed. Between her fervent kisses and entanglement with him, she began to undress.

"Where were we?" she breathed as her kisses fell on him again and again.

"A very, _very_ good place if I recall correctly."

"Mmm. Specifically?" she asked as she bit his lip softly.

Whispering, almost shyly, he answered, "It was about to get quite intimate, I believe."

"Mm-hm. Let's jump straight back in."

She clawed at his plastron, eagerly trying to expose him.

_"April._.." he moaned lowly at her brazen desire. Nothing else came to mind, his blood suddenly rushing away from his head in a dizzying pulse.

"You are so _smart_..." she whispered between each brush of her lips on his skin as an arm freed itself of a sleeve, "So incredibly sexy...just _watching_ you turns me on..."

Strong hands groped at her thighs as he peeled off her shorts.

"Take these off..." he breathed.

She quickly followed suit and unclipped her bra, letting it slither from her body before reaching up to pluck the knot of his mask loose. The sensation of her breasts against him was instantaneous. He felt himself stiffen below, emerging from the fissure at his plastron's edge.

The last of their clothes fell to the floor like discarded trash_._ Within moments she was naked again, straddling him as he sat, her knees pressed against his thighs, the mounds of her perfect breasts urging towards him. And this time he could not fight the instinct to take her. Aroused by her control, he was more than ready.

April inhaled in a soft gasp as he entered her. She felt incredible on him, and he couldn't help but let the words fall softly from his mouth.

"_I love you, April_."

Her eyes held his in quiet passion, glimmering, mirage-like, as they relished their sacred connection. Without warning she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck and thrusting her hips forward. Donatello grunted in unbridled pleasure. The feeling of her on him was indescribable and instinctively his body took over - a hand moving behind her, caressing her, holding her steady on him, as he rocked his hips to complement her motion. A soft whimper of pleasure left her quivering mouth as she moved with him, air escaping with a hiss between her gritted teeth. She gave a trembling chuckle as sweat beaded on her brow.

"_This is good_."

"_Mmm_." he agreed, his brain addled with mind numbing pleasure.

And there was nowhere he'd rather be in the world than right here, right now, making love with this beautiful woman. April. He still had so much trouble believing it sometimes. That she would love him so ferociously. That she would want him as much as he wanted her.

"_Very good."_

She pushed at his chest and he fell back onto the bed. Taking charge, she rode him harder, leaning over him as her eyes bored into his with a searing intensity. He grimaced in pleasure, each pump of her body wanting him to surrender. He held back, waiting for her. Waiting. The most heavenly waiting. One of her hands reached for him, tenderly stroking his head as the other gripped tightly at the sheets behind his shoulder, clearly enjoying every sensation she was receiving.

"_Come for me_..." she breathed.

He shook his head. Defiant. Determined to make up for his earlier failings.

"No," he rasped headily, "Get on your knees."

He lifted her from him, swiveling her around on the bed. The points of her limbs sunk into the foam and she waited in anticipation as he entered her with deliberate slowness, hearing his ragged breath of relief when inside her. April bit hard into her lip, almost drawing blood as she tried desperately to stop from screaming. This position always hit deep and hard, and even after all their times together, she was still getting accustomed him. And she loved it. Loved everything so strange and familiar about his body. Thrived on what it did to her. His weight, his precision, his impulse. His name left her lips in a soft cry.

"_Don_."

Donatello swam in bliss as he fucked her. To hear her call his name. Every rebound from her drawing him back in, warm and tight, sending sparks flying throughout his body. The mattress groaned in protest beneath them, thumping against the wall. With a final sliver of lucidity, he shot an arm out against the brick, bracing against it and absorbing some of the impact. Knowing what he was doing, April gave a wavering titter.

"_Clever._.."

But then she, too, became adrift in the moment.

Time seemed to pass differently in their love-making, and he marked it in his mind - each moment a lifetime flashing before his eyes, each sensation heightened to very edge of heaven. Drowning in love, but never more alive. Him. And her. And them together. Beneath all the erotic and carnal memories of her - moving on him, with him - it was there.

With a breathless grunt, Donatello pitched forward, pressing his chest plates against her naked back, his body encapsulating her as he continued to slam steadily against her. His chin dug affectionately into her shoulder before he sunk his teeth in. _Mine_, it seemed to proclaim. April gasped and felt a surge of pleasure at his charge, his small streak of possessiveness pushing her into a sweet spot that danced with insanity. He released her with a triumphant chuckle.

"God, you're beautiful." he breathed heavily.

"The start...the start, again" she growled into the bedding.

Donatello obliged in one quick movement, grasping her around the waist and lifting her back to the edge of the bed. Before his feet had even hit the floor, she was on him. Again and again she rocked her body as slowly and steadily he timed it with her, driving his hips as she wore deliciously over him. He watched enraptured as she muffled her cries, face flushed in ecstasy. Each thrust taking them closer and closer to the edge of dissent. In a state of delirium she fell by his head, her breaths hot and ragged by his neck, like streams of liquid fervor trickling into his ears. Deep, deeper, the sound stoking his lust more than any movement alone could. Determined to conquer her, he moved a hand from the crook of her waist, a thumb reaching below her navel, gently stroking the bud of her naked softness as she moved rhythmically on him. Matching her. Inciting her. April arched her neck back with a broken inhale, and he looked into her tilted eyes, becoming snagged helpless in an ocean of green. He floated. His angel. His woman.

The tide changed so suddenly. He could feel her tensing around him as her breathing became quicker and deeper, nails digging into his skin with telling vigor. Feeling her close, Donatello bent forward, not taking his eyes from her as his tongue found her nipple, teasing it until she was softly mewling. He bit gently down, his teeth scraping across the nub. The reaction was instant - a jolt of electric pleasure running through her, escaping her mouth as a sharp gasp, tipping her beyond return.

"_Oh god..._" the heel of her palm slipped senselessly across his umber colored shell as she allowed herself to be consumed,"_God, Donnie_..."

She came, a quaking pool of euphoria, and he allowed himself follow her, coming to peak by her pure enjoyment. A staggered cry escaped him as he lost all control, the sensation racing through his body like wildfire. He clamped down his mouth, drenched in sweat and song. A blinding sweetness. April held him close as the aftermath radiated throughout his body. He could feel it- coming from her, ending with her. He wanted to hold her there forever- panting, flushed. At her most beautiful.

Finally, the roar quieted. Amidst heavy breaths, only they remained. She draped her arms across his shoulders, softly kissing his cheek.

"I love you." she whispered.

Lost in her, he could only think to give a ghost of a nod.

He reached up and smoothed over her sticky brow as his heart tempered back into rhythm, his dark eyes tracing her face in adoration. Placing his fingers atop her cheek, he guided her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. Love was different to anything he had previously understood - when it was mirrored, it was limitless; and with every measure he gave to her, he felt replenished. Gradually he pulled away, her face peacefully still, as if caught in a dazzle of lights. Still catching his breath, he skimmed his hand down her neck and across her shoulder, caressing the dip at her clavicle.

"You liked that?" he asked softly.

She shook her head in quiet wonder, "How do you know? How do you know how to make me feel so good, Donnie?"

He chuckled as he answered in earnest: "Practice."

She dropped her forehead to rest on his shoulder with a humored snigger. Donatello could feel her heart racing beneath her chest. A tribute beyond compare.

"Well, then. It seems all our practice is paying off."

Eyes glinting, Donatello slipped his arms around her, holding her warm body closer, "There's always room for more practice, wouldn't you agree?"

Faint concern washed over her as she sat back up. Practice, _this_ kind of practice, was usually reserved for the apartment - or the very rare occasion when the lair was empty. Long out of range of other ninjas. Especially furry ones with sharp hearing.

"Oh god, I hope we didn't alert everyone what we were up to in here."

"What's that? Networking the cells without air-conditioning - _scandalous_."

April shook her head with a crooked grin.

"Laugh it up. I'm not the one with three brothers at the ready for a little merciless teasing."

He kissed her shoulder. She had a good point.

"I regret nothing. I'm just going to look them in the eye and tell them I was fixing-"

"Me?" she asked innocently.

"Uh-"

"The bed?"

He chuckled.

"The _air conditioning_."

"That was quite a repair job." her teeth dragged across her lower lip in hope, "I'm sure they'll completely buy it?"

Dropping his chin, Donatello glanced up at her with a look both wary and reluctant.

"Mikey." she concluded.

He nodded fretfully, but she could see a trace of mirth below the surface.

She sighed. If Michelangelo knew, it would only be a matter of time before the others did, too. April shook her head trying to ward off the small embarrassment. The last thing she wanted to feel was shame over her feelings for Splinter's brightest son or the manifestation of their love into something more physical. Well, she would preferably not to draw attention to anything physical. Actually, she would definitely prefer if anything _this _physical remained a complete mystery to the others.

_Too late now, in any case_, she reasoned as her eyes lingered on his firm shoulders. _If only he wasn't so damned tempting..._

April dipped her head curiously, "So. Tell me. Can you move at all?"

He lifted her hand, kissing her inner wrist, "I can lie vertically. That's about it for the moment."

As if to demonstrate, he slung an arm around her and lowered themselves onto the bed. Together they lay side by side as cool air flowed over their warm and relaxed bodies. April watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, and wondered distantly if he felt as lost and found as she did. Her heart pounded drunkenly as looked at him with a secret smile - the cherished times they shared with each other theirs and theirs alone. Smiling, he winked back. The muscles in his legs elongated as he stretched them out, popping and cracking in languid relief.

"You see?" her arm slid across his firm plastron until it reached the far side. Lifting her fingertips, she strummed his olive-colored bicep, "I knew I'd cripple you."

A deep chuckle rang through him.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you." he shot her a perceptive look, "Well. Maybe not that sorry."

"Hmm. Me neither." she murmured as her fluttered eyes shut.

She settled into the nook of his arm, spent and limber. Donatello watched her from the corner of his eye, running his fingers through her wild tresses set free during their play. Copper swathes on milky sands. A deep spring of love bloomed from within him and he felt it stream over them both like a protective force. Before knowing her, he never knew that this place existed, a place where he felt so at peace. With April beside him, the world seemed brighter, teeming with possibility, and flooding his senses with its beauty. Even from within the dark bowels of a city, his life felt illuminated. Somehow, she felt his ponderings, could read him even, just through the touch of his skin.

"I like it here." she whispered drowsily.

Donatello turned to kiss her forehead before staring up at the tight lattice of bricks that formed the ceiling above their heads. And upon their solid structure his mind drifted to the past; to the future; how he wanted her with him always.

Reaching up, April stroked his cheek. Her eyes flickered open, wandering serenely across his face.

"You're quiet."

"Just thinking."

"About flux capacitors?" she gently teased, tapping his chin with her index finger.

He glanced back down at her.

"You."

"Seems serious."

"It is." he grinned, brushing his knuckles along her shoulder, "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mm-mm. Just recharging." She curled her fist above his heart, the corner of her mouth rising as she murmured into his chest, "For seconds."

Donatello dropped his head to kiss her shoulder, following it with another upon her forehead.

"Let me know when your appetite comes back."

She grabbed the lip of his shell and pulled him to her mouth. Soft, tender. Salty and sweet. The kiss was immaculate. She pushed him back with a gentle shove.

"You will be," she confided, "the very first to know."

He closed his eyes, heart beating soundly, the love of his life entangled in his arms. Breathing her in like the gentle breeze of a desert wind, he felt sleep beckon. They were moments from slumber beneath the low drone of the cool air when another series of raps broke into their solitude. It tapped on the heavy door that barred the entrance to the room and echoed distantly into their drifting consciousness'.

"Um, hey?! Donnie? April? Are you guys...busy...again?"

With his eyes still shut and arms firmly around April, Donatello frowned.

"Unbelievable."

"I told you we should have given him a sedative."

He snorted in amusement before calling back to his brother.

"What is it, Mikey?"

From behind the door they could just hear his faint sigh.

"So, haha, heya! Ya never gonna believe this...but, ah, so I was putting the crossbow away and I kinda shot an arrow into the TV. Um...yeah. So... it'd be doing me a real solid if you could maybe get it working again...Don? Can ya hear me? Please, Don? There's a WWE match starting soon and Raph threatened to shoot my other leg if I don't get it fixed! _Pretty please_? With a jellybean on top? I know you're a fan of my good ol' jellybean sundae that I invented just now as a legal turtle tender."

With a heavy exhale, Donatello craned his hand across April's waist and hugged her close, nuzzling into her hair as he spoke under his breath.

"I'm going to bolt him down."

"_Please_."

A double punch pounded against the door followed with a desperate cry, "Don? I think he's serious!"

April's laughter petered out as she considered the implications of Michelangelo's plea.

"You'd better go rescue him."

"I have more than half a mind to let Raph shoot him...but I guess either way he'll end up back here." He let out a defeated sigh as the only logical solution arose, "I will be so quick you won't even know I'm gone."

"I always know when you're gone." she said softly, reaching up to stroke his face, "And _not _because of security feeds or cell trackers." she added with a grin.

He placed his hand over hers, capturing her if only for a moment in time. Deeply touched. Deconstructed in mere moments.

But there another reason he left unsaid, one that held him eternally indebted to his youngest brother: Michelangelo's years of underhanded scheming; his unwavering and often times inappropriate support; his unrelentingly blind optimism - all forming part of the reason Donatello had finally gained the courage to confront April. To tell her that he loved her. He remembered it like it was only yesterday, bathed in moonlight, the first moment he felt truly alive. The change in his life when she returned his kiss. And he would be forever grateful for it.

Again, he raised his head, arching it towards the door.

"I'll be out there in a minute."

"Oh! _Thankyoubro_! I sooo owe ya for this! Consider that jellybean sundae as good as _made_. Hear that? MADE!" He slapped the door to emphasize the word. "And uh...do you have any more painkillers? 'cause my leg is _killing _me."

"Yes, I'll bring it out."

"Thanks, Don-Don!"

They heard him patter away towards the kitchen.

"I have few replacement TV's behind the bookshelf. People are dumping those old CRT's left, right and center." he confessed to April with a wry grin, "Maybe I can bribe him into keeping his unfounded speculations to himself."

Giggling softly, April rolled onto her side and up onto Donatello's plastron, holding the sides of his head as she dropped a kiss onto the tip of his broad face. Her eyes sparkled playfully.

"Well then, how about making it _twenty _minutes before you leave?"

Donatello's brow shot up at the proposition: "Why not forty?"

"Mm..." she amended atop a kiss, her eyes drifting shut: "An hour?"

"Two?" he countered hopefully, brushing his lips against the crook of her neck.

April shivered at the sensation. Two hours of this she could handle. Lovingly, she ran her fingernails down his shoulders leaving pale lines tilled in his skin as the answer to their predicament became clear.

"How about we never leave bed?"

Donatello's hand planed across her back, before coming to a rest on the supple contours of her bottom.

"I like your thinking." His features softened, "Can I temporarily appease you with a jelly bean sundae?"

"Only if you bring it back in here..." she whispered suggestively between kisses.

He swiftly caught her meaning.

"_Done._"

He coiled his arms tightly around her, releasing a deep rumbling exhale. She matched the strength of his embrace, feeling lightly crushed but loving it, like she couldn't get close enough.

And neither could he.

"Then let's shake on it." she whispered.

Her soft lips fell to his, the world around them fading to the shadow in which Antares drifted. Bonded. Seamless. Burning bright. Despite any cupid's wayward arrow. In the way only love could be.

...

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading - I was a little hesitant putting it up, and I hope you enjoyed it!

A big thank you to Novus Ordo Seclorum for making sure I crossed the t's, crossed _out_ words like 'moist', and for pushing me to finish. Please go check out Novus' brilliant TMNT fics (especially if you love Don and April centric stories), most currently "A Hallmark Holiday" u/2076622/Novus-Ordo-Seclorum


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